


liminal

by lsularak



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Amnesia, Death, Injury, Mipha's Grace (Legend of Zelda), Passive suicidal tendencies, Temporary Amnesia, Temporary Character Death, a lot of talk about duty, and responsibilities, and youre cool with dying if it means you get the peace, i cannot FUCKING TAG, like where you just kinda want some Peace, link is Tired okay, lots of talk of death, making peace with death, morbid shit like that, other shit like that, unhealthy thinking processes probably, what is it called when you dont rlly wanna live but also dont wanna die, whatever that feeling is, wow i use a lot of tags for a post thats only 1032 words
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:53:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23947969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lsularak/pseuds/lsularak
Summary: Ever since he had freed Vah Ruta (ever since he had freedMipha,) he had visited that liminal space between living and dead far too many times for his (foranyone’s) liking. Despite this, however, it was a rather lovely place to be.Link has a complicated relationship with Mipha's grace.
Relationships: Link & Mipha (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 51





	liminal

**Author's Note:**

> i have a lot of feelings about mipha's grace and link just being Tired of the hero gig for some reason
> 
> so like  
> heres some of that content
> 
> also wow its kinda short but im big tired because i didnt sleep and my body refuses to crank out any more words!!
> 
> constructive crit is always welcome !! and any suggestions for stuff to write in the future would also be cool!!

Link did not have a death wish.

No, really, he _didn’t_. He couldn’t really afford to have a death wish, with the way everything was. With the way everyone depended on him. With the way the world needed him. A boy with such a grand destiny written out for him so long ago could never have a death wish, because if the hero were to wish for death rather than wish to keep fighting, (to keep _trying_ , no matter how many times the world put him down,) then all hope would be lost.

So, no, Link did not have a death wish. As a hero (as _the_ hero) it was his sacred duty to continue the fight, no matter how futile it seemed. As a ( _the_ ) hero, he would uphold the tradition of fighting even when the odds were stacked so incredibly high against him, just as past heroes had. 

All of that said, this did not prevent Link from dying. Several times, in fact.

See, while it is the hero’s duty to fight for his land, even when it seems pointless, it is also his duty to die for his land, no matter how much he does not wish to. So, while our hero does not have a death wish, he was forced to make peace with the concept of dying for a land he no longer remembered, and that in turn no longer remembered him.

He found he was no longer bothered, quickly enough. By his second week among the world again, by his second week of injuries so grievous that he was forced to take a day to recuperate between them – no matter his hero spirit screaming that there was no time for such a thing, no time for _resting_ when people were _dying_ , people he had once sworn to _protect_ , – he had forced a sense of peace over himself in such situations; and while he remembered next to nothing about who he had been, Link had the distinct feeling that this was not the first time he had forced this same sense of peace with the looming threat of his death for the kingdom.

That was so long ago, though. That was when it was simply the threat of dying, and not a recurring event.

Link desperately wished that he could go back to that.

Ever since he had freed Vah Ruta (ever since he had freed _Mipha_ ,) he had visited that liminal space between living and dead far too many times for his (for _anyone’s_ ) liking. Despite this, however, it was a rather lovely place to be.

Every time he took just a little too much damage, every time a broken rib punched itself through one of his already struggling lungs and stole what little remained of his consciousness, he got a chance to visit this space. The space where all of his aches and pains were forgotten, where he could see clearly without a concussion blurring his vision, where his persistent exhaustion was gone and where he could just _breathe_ – 

Every time. Every time he was allowed to visit this space, he was at peace with his death; and not simply because he had forced that mindset upon himself back when his journey began. He was prepared to move on, if this was what death felt like. If this was what _peace_ felt like.

He was ready. Ready to die, ready to _rest_ , consequences be damned. The kingdom needed him, but what good is a hero when he is so, _so_ tired? What good could the legendary hero be if he was not willing to fight the pull of unconsciousness, simply because all of his unevenly matched and fruitless battles had placed a weariness so deep on his body that it seeped into his bones?

Alas, our hero is not the one to decide when his body may rest.

Each moment he found peace between the worlds, each moment he had almost passed through, he was coaxed back to the world of aches and pains and weariness and fears by a gentle voice and an even gentler touch; the phantom caress of a friend he can no longer fully recall, whispering through his mind _”It was my pleasure.”_

She either did not know of the weariness his bones weighed him down with, or she simply could not bear to see him go yet. No matter her intent, each time he was pulled from the space he could not resist a sob. He was tired, and he simply wanted to rest. Not for long, not really, just long enough for all of the assorted pains he had collected to heal, just long enough for a single full healing cycle. Just _one_.

But heroes do not have the luxury of time on their side; they never have, and they never will. That is the life of a hero; one where they will be run ragged from the ceaseless needs of the world around them, with not so much as a second to tend to their own.

Heroes live an exhausting life, and Link wonders who appointed him one.

He is sure that the bitterness he feels is misplaced, but it still sits heavy in the back of his mind as he is brought back to a body that aches from phantom injuries miraculously healed just so that he may live to fight another day. This routine is an old dance and song that he knows every single piece of, and the hero hates that this will be his life for so long as he is needed on this world. 

But, no, Link does not have a death wish. He does not actively wish for some incident to take him from the world, but when presented with the endless tranquility of the ( _painless, free,_ ) quiet expanse of the in-between, he cannot help but wish to stay there for just a little longer. He cannot help but hope that perhaps, if he dies, a new hero will take his place. After all, heroes rise and fall just like the kingdoms they serve, and the Hero of the Wilds had borne witness to the collapse of his own many years ago.


End file.
